Sports Night fan fiction: After Eli
Title: After Eli
Fandom: Sports Night
Characters: Dan Rydell, Isaac Jaffee
Word count: 600
Rating: G, gen
Written: 1 May 2010 for Sorkinverse challenge #24: random pairings
He has no right to be here, and every reason not to be. Dan's well aware of that, but he has to find out for himself how bad it is, he has to know.
Dana, in drunk and sentimental mode, had once told Isaac he was like a father to them all (and the look of sheer horror on Isaac's face at that had been something wonderful to behold), a faux pas she has never quite managed to live down. Dan is a grown man and, whatever his issues - and they are many - with his own father, he's not looking for any kind of substitute. Nonetheless, Isaac … Isaac is more than merely a boss. Not quite a friend, and certainly not a buddy, but something special and unique all of his own. He's a touchstone, safe haven, one of the few things in this world that Dan knows he always can and always will be able to rely on. He's stood by Dan when the politic thing would have been to let him go hang, backed him up, taken his part; he's allowed Dan to speak his mind, even when the network was crying out for a gag order. He's let Dan know when he thinks he's full of crap, too, and Dan admires him all the more for that. Dan knows his own weaknesses only too well, knows he can be self-centred, outspoken, hot-headed, and he knows, too, that most people either don't care enough or are too in awe of his very, very minor celebrity status to pull him up when he's being an ass. Isaac will. Isaac always has done. God willing, Isaac will go on doing so for a very long time.
God willing.
Isaac is one of the good guys. And there aren't so many of those around.
Visiting hours are long gone and, in any case, no-one's allowed in but family. The dragon-nurse on guard duty at the desk (who is probably, in real life, a very nice woman) had told him so, the expression on her face daring him to claim a relationship and let her shoot him down in flames. On any other day he would've taken up the challenge, dared her to prove him a liar, but not tonight. Not after this last day, and all its revelations.
Eli's coming.
He'd not been wrong, but even he couldn't have predicted just how much darkness the day would bring.
Still, he is Dan - although 'Dan', it seems, is, after all, that guy, the guy who leaves before the morning and who never calls, the guy who sleeps with another man's wife - and he is undaunted. He waits; he bides his time, quiet, unobtrusive, unnoticed, and, when he sees his chance, he slips noiselessly along the corridor, checking each room until he finds the right one.
All he needs is a glimpse, just enough to reassure himself. He eases the door open, slips inside, but goes no nearer; stands by the wall, barely daring to breathe. Isaac's asleep. That's only to be expected, and it's for the best: he'd be mad as hell to know that Dan's seen him this way.
From here, the damage doesn't seem too bad. There's a slackness to Isaac's face that was never there before, there's menacing-looking machinery crowding the bedspace, there are tubes and wires and all kinds of stuff that Dan knows are evil necessities and tries his best not to focus on - but he's breathing, and that - really, that's all Dan needed to know.
This is Isaac Jaffee. A little thing like a stroke won't stop him. It won't even make him break his stride.
Dan smiles fondly, opens the door, and steals away as silently as he came.
***
Fandom: Sports Night
Characters: Dan Rydell, Isaac Jaffee
Word count: 600
Rating: G, gen
Written: 1 May 2010 for Sorkinverse challenge #24: random pairings
He has no right to be here, and every reason not to be. Dan's well aware of that, but he has to find out for himself how bad it is, he has to know.
Dana, in drunk and sentimental mode, had once told Isaac he was like a father to them all (and the look of sheer horror on Isaac's face at that had been something wonderful to behold), a faux pas she has never quite managed to live down. Dan is a grown man and, whatever his issues - and they are many - with his own father, he's not looking for any kind of substitute. Nonetheless, Isaac … Isaac is more than merely a boss. Not quite a friend, and certainly not a buddy, but something special and unique all of his own. He's a touchstone, safe haven, one of the few things in this world that Dan knows he always can and always will be able to rely on. He's stood by Dan when the politic thing would have been to let him go hang, backed him up, taken his part; he's allowed Dan to speak his mind, even when the network was crying out for a gag order. He's let Dan know when he thinks he's full of crap, too, and Dan admires him all the more for that. Dan knows his own weaknesses only too well, knows he can be self-centred, outspoken, hot-headed, and he knows, too, that most people either don't care enough or are too in awe of his very, very minor celebrity status to pull him up when he's being an ass. Isaac will. Isaac always has done. God willing, Isaac will go on doing so for a very long time.
God willing.
Isaac is one of the good guys. And there aren't so many of those around.
Visiting hours are long gone and, in any case, no-one's allowed in but family. The dragon-nurse on guard duty at the desk (who is probably, in real life, a very nice woman) had told him so, the expression on her face daring him to claim a relationship and let her shoot him down in flames. On any other day he would've taken up the challenge, dared her to prove him a liar, but not tonight. Not after this last day, and all its revelations.
Eli's coming.
He'd not been wrong, but even he couldn't have predicted just how much darkness the day would bring.
Still, he is Dan - although 'Dan', it seems, is, after all, that guy, the guy who leaves before the morning and who never calls, the guy who sleeps with another man's wife - and he is undaunted. He waits; he bides his time, quiet, unobtrusive, unnoticed, and, when he sees his chance, he slips noiselessly along the corridor, checking each room until he finds the right one.
All he needs is a glimpse, just enough to reassure himself. He eases the door open, slips inside, but goes no nearer; stands by the wall, barely daring to breathe. Isaac's asleep. That's only to be expected, and it's for the best: he'd be mad as hell to know that Dan's seen him this way.
From here, the damage doesn't seem too bad. There's a slackness to Isaac's face that was never there before, there's menacing-looking machinery crowding the bedspace, there are tubes and wires and all kinds of stuff that Dan knows are evil necessities and tries his best not to focus on - but he's breathing, and that - really, that's all Dan needed to know.
This is Isaac Jaffee. A little thing like a stroke won't stop him. It won't even make him break his stride.
Dan smiles fondly, opens the door, and steals away as silently as he came.
***